


Vigil

by TJ_Dragonblade



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dark Thoughts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJ_Dragonblade/pseuds/TJ_Dragonblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaara ponders many things while Naruto sleeps.  Post-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vigil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enblackink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enblackink/gifts).



Gaara watches Naruto sleep.

It's a frequent habit. A lifetime of insomnia in defense against Shukaku means that his body has adapted and even though there's no danger in sleep for him now, he just doesn't do it very much. An hour or two per night, sometimes three, and the rest of his time is spent awake. Often this means more time he can spend keeping the mundane administrative aspects of his office caught up and flowing smoothly--he never would have imagined that the Kazekage's role involved quite so much paperwork.

But when Naruto is in Suna, Gaara will leave those duties for another day. Far more important to him on these nights is the need to be with Naruto, to indulge in the love he's spent his whole life trying to find.

It's a strange emotion, love. It's not entirely what he thought it might be. He had imagined it as a state of pure happiness caused by attachment to a person who reciprocated the attachment, and while he might still loosely define it in similar terms, there is far more to it than he'd ever contemplated.

Love does mean respite from the pain of loneliness and isolation, as he had hoped for so long, but it is double-edged. Love also means coping with the new loneliness of missing Naruto when they are separated. It means wondering if he can live up to Naruto's high opinion of him. It means worrying that Naruto takes too many reckless risks in combat situations. It means facing the possibility that Naruto's next opponent might finally be too strong, might be the one who will end Naruto's life.

It means fear that he could lose Naruto, by one means or another.

Acknowledging that fear is easy. Gaara is very familiar with fear of all sorts, has been the cause of quite a lot of it in his younger days.

Accepting it is somewhat more difficult.

Gaara doesn't like being afraid. It makes him feel small and powerless, when he is anything but. It strips away the strength and civility he's worked so hard to develop, leaves him once again that wounded child ready to lash out and crush the first sign of threat.

He sits by the bed in his loose pants, bare-chested, arms crossed atop his drawn-up knees, and stares at Naruto steady and unblinking.

Naruto is sprawled on his back in the thrown-off sheets, naked and snoring just a little. He doesn't wear clothing to bed even when they don't have sex; he's never really stayed in Suna long enough to adapt to the desert heat and nude is ultimately more comfortable for him. Gaara doesn't mind--naked Naruto is a very pleasant sight--but right now he's not of a mindset to pay that any heed. He watches the rise and fall of Naruto's chest in the dark, thoughts running random and disjointed through his head.

_I went to war for him,_ he thinks, not for the first time. Of course the war had been about more than just Naruto; it had been about unity, cooperation, banding together and defending the world at large from the dreams of madmen. But for Gaara, from day one, keeping Naruto safe had been his only real priority. Even then, well before he'd realized exactly what his attachment to Naruto meant, he'd understood that Naruto was more important to him than almost anything else.

_I went to war for him._

_I would do it again._

Gaara hopes he will not see another war as long as he lives. The shinobi world is changing; the alliance of the five nations is no longer officially in effect but international relations are warmer and more open than even the most venerable of elders can remember seeing in their lifetime. Gaara and most of his peers want to ensure that this trend continues. Peace is an attractive prospect.

But he knows, deep inside, that he would start another war without a moment's hesitation if it meant protecting Naruto, no matter how many people would die, how many of _his_ people he would be sending to their deaths as a result.

_I would kill to save him_.

The thought stirs, and Gaara blinks. Killing is nothing new to Gaara, but he is not that person anymore. He no longer kills with random indiscrimination. He kills when he must, when there is no better option; he kills only in defense of his family, his home and his country.

But Naruto is _more_ to him than all of those combined.

_I would paint the world with blood to keep him safe_.

He wonders, uneasily, if he would truly give up everything--his station, his village, his siblings, himself--to defend Naruto.

He knows, deep in the darkest corners of his soul, that if it came down to it, the answer is 'yes'.

He would willfully murder by the thousands if it meant Naruto's life.

Part of him is appalled at the idea, but part of him fiercely approves. There is a distinctive brand of satisfaction in physically crushing his enemies, in feeling them struggle and die in the grip of his sand, that he has tried hard to forget. The ghost of old madness stirs in the back of his mind, and briefly he lets himself imagine how satisfying it would be to slaughter in Naruto's defense, to annihilate those who would threaten his most precious person.

It would be exhilarating, liberating.

Vindicating.

He knows he should be ashamed of the little thrill that runs through him at the thought, but he isn't.

He recalls the gleeful justification he used to feel when he killed for himself, and wonders how much greater that sense of validation would be if he were killing for Naruto.

He remembers the taste of blood, with something that feels disturbingly akin to longing.

Something old and dark and primal stirs in his gut.

He will not give Naruto up, not for anything, not even if it means losing the person that he has become.

His nails dig in to his skin, above the elbows where he grips his crossed arms.

_Naruto is_ mine _, and I will defend him at any cost._

He is almost afraid of the intensity he feels, this possessive need, how easily he could become his old self again for Naruto's sake.

But Gaara doesn't like being afraid. He refuses to succumb to it.

Closing his eyes, he breathes deep, recalling the techniques that Baki has taught him for centering himself, his focus, his mind.

He is stronger than his fear and he knows, deeper even than the urge to crush and kill these imaginary enemies, that Naruto will never let him get that far gone.

He opens his eyes again, gazing at Naruto, still snoring away in Gaara's bed with arms and legs akimbo, completely relaxed and dead to the world. Gaara and sleep have been strangers for most of his life, but all the same he is aware that a shinobi--even one so unconventional as Naruto--never slumbers so freely unless he knows he's completely safe.

_Naruto trusts me,_ Gaara reminds himself. _He trusts me to be the person he sees when he looks at me._

The thought calms him, curls warm around his heart and settles gently in his chest. 

_The least I can give back is my trust that he will stay alive, stay safe, stay with me._

It's the kind of trust that his younger self could never fathom, neither giving nor receiving.

But he is not _that_ person anymore, either.

He unfolds his body from the chair, trails his fingertips along the gourd sitting next to him in an old semi-conscious gesture that gives him reassurance, then slides into bed beside Naruto.

Dead asleep still, Naruto turns and burrows into him, a physically-invasive oddity that makes Gaara tense up, surprises him even after all these months. Such unabashed physical contact will likely always be foreign when he isn't expecting or prepared for it.

He forcefully wills himself to relax, putting a careful tentative arm around Naruto and closing his eyes.

The warmth and feel and scent of Naruto here beside him is more calming even than Baki's exercises, gently turning his forced relaxation into the real thing, slowly quieting the jumble of thoughts in his head. He breathes deep and even, matching the rhythm of it to Naruto's, pleased and soothed by the synchronicity.

Naruto makes him stronger, more alive, more human.

Naruto makes him _better_.

He feels sleep drifting up to claim him, and latches on to one final thought as he succumbs.

_I am not a monster anymore. And as long as Naruto is part of me, I never will be again._


End file.
